"Aha!--thou knows the hunter, my fine fellow," said Joseph with a challenging laugh and snatching violently at the vulture as though to tear him from Wally's shoulder. Suddenly the irritated bird put forth all its might, spread out its wings, rose to the ceiling, and thence swooped with its whole strength down upon the enemy below. A shriek of terror rang from Wally's lips, Afra saved herself in a corner, the narrow hut was almost filled with the rushing monster who no longer heard his mistress's voice, but dashed again and again at Joseph with his terrible beak striving to strike his talons into the man's side. It was one wild confusion of fighting fists and wings, in which feathers flew about, and the walls grew red where Joseph's bleeding hands touched them. "My knife, if I could only get at my knife," he cried. Wally tore the door open. "Out, Joseph, out into the open air; in this narrow hole thou can do nothing with him." But Joseph the bear-slayer had no idea of running away from a vulture. "The devil take me if I stir from the spot," he said with a groan. For one moment longer the battle wavered. Then Joseph, his face pressed against the wall, managed with his iron fists to seize the vulture by the claws, and with giant strength forced down the struggling animal as in a trap whilst it hacked at his hands and arms with its beak. "Now my knife, draw out my knife--I have no hand free," he cried to Wally. But Wally used the moment otherwise; she sprang by, and threw a thick cloth over the vulture's head. It was easy for her now to tie its feet together with a cord, so as to render it helpless, and Joseph flung it on the ground. Trembling and without strength the proud animal exhausted itself in struggles in the cloth on the floor, and Joseph taking up his gun, began to load it. "What art thou doing there?" asked Wally astonished. "Loading my gun," he said, setting his teeth with the pain of his torn hands. When it was loaded, he took the captive bird up from the floor, and flung it out of the hut into the open air. Then placing himself at a little distance, he took aim, and said low and imperiously to Wally, "Now let him loose." "_What_ am I to do?" said Wally, who could not believe she had heard aright. "Let him fly!" "What for?" "That I may shoot him. Doesn't thee know that no true hunter shoots his game excepting on the spring or on the wing?" "For God's sake," cried Wally, "thou wouldn't shoot me my Hansl?" Joseph, in his turn, looked at her wonderingly. "Thou'd have me let the rabid brute live, perhaps?" he said. "Joseph," said Wally, stepping resolutely up to him, "leave me my Hansl untouched. I fought with the old one for the bird at the risk of my life, I've brought him up from the nest, no one loves me as he does--he's my only one, all that I have in the world--thou shall do nothing to my Hansl." "Indeed," said Joseph sharply and bitterly, "the devil nearly tore out my eyes, and I shall do nothing to him?"